


Past Remnants

by scorchedtrees



Category: Psycho-Pass
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-30
Updated: 2014-07-30
Packaged: 2018-02-11 02:10:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2049387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scorchedtrees/pseuds/scorchedtrees
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One day when visiting his father, Ginoza runs into a familiar face.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Past Remnants

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a pointless little oneshot I wrote a while ago after finishing the series because I was obsessed with it. (Still am, really...) Let me know if anyone was too OOC or anything!

It becomes a ritual of a sort.

As things finally settle down from Makishima’s death and the aftermath of the riots, as Inspector Shimotsuki slowly becomes accustomed to working with Division One, life starts falling back into a familiar pattern—and Ginoza is good with those, even if his life and its patterns have changed quite a bit since the Makishima incident.

So on the first weekend of every month, provided they are not working on a case or no emergency has arisen, Inspector Tsunemori will accompany him to visit his father.

Sometimes he brings flowers, other times he brings whiskey, sometimes he brings both. Sometimes he does not bring anything at all. He kneels in front of the tombstone and traces the strokes of the carved name with his eyes, and sometimes he will speak but sometimes he does not speak at all.

When he does he does not say much—”Yesterday,” he tells his father once, “I shot a man whose Crime Coefficient was lower than mine.” Another time he mentions passing Chief Kasei in the hall and recalls the way she looked at him, or rather the way she didn’t; he is an Enforcer now, not worthy of her attention unless he does something wrong.

Part of him wonders why he does this, troubles the young Inspector every month though he knows she does not mind, and part of him thinks that logically, there is no reason for these trips. But another part of him knows quite well why he visits and it’s become a habit, a ritual, something normal in his routine so he does not stop.

One month, when the trees are growing barer and the leaves are dying underfoot, he encounters something different. One month, when he is kneeling before the grave and thinking, he senses the barest hint of a presence behind him.

He is not the only one with loved ones buried here, but he recognizes those faint footsteps—he has heard them for years, by his side, in the office, out on the streets, then behind him, a lurking shadow that did the dirty work required before it disappeared months ago. “This is the first time you’ve come to visit, I take it,” he says without looking up.

A quiet breath sounds behind him, and then a quieter voice still as familiar to him as his own: “Yeah. I had to visit the old man at least once.”

Ginoza turns around then, and Kougami steps out of the shadow of a column behind him. His old colleague looks the same as he always has, as healthy and strong as ever, in a white shirt sans tie and a black jacket with the collar pulled up around his neck. There is a hat on his head, but nothing will disguise the unruly tufts of dark hair that stick out anyway.

"You look well," Ginoza says.

Kougami nods once. “So do you.”

They are silent for a moment, no words necessary as they both look upon Masaoka Tomomi’s grave. The air outside is cold, a chilly wind blowing through the open space, and Ginoza shoves his hands inside his pockets and wonders how they got here, two promising young Inspectors with their whole lives and careers ahead of them. He wonders if he should feel obliged to take Kougami into custody right now, if he should not be standing here calmly; he wonders how his ex-partner managed to avoid the street scanners and drones on his way here, but in the end he does not voice any of his questions.

"How is Inspector Tsunemori?" Kougami finally asks.

"She still worries about you sometimes. I told her you would be fine, but she tends to worry."

Kougami huffs, a sound between a sigh and a laugh. “That’s like her.”

"Have you contacted her?"

There is a pause, just a tad too long. “… No.”

Ginoza moves to push his glasses up his nose before remembering they are not there; it is an old habit he sometimes still finds himself slipping into. “Nothing was caught on any mobile terminals.”

He glances over at Kougami, who stands there staring at the tombstone thoughtfully, and wonders what they are now—Kougami was his colleague, his friend, and then his subordinate, and now the ex-Enforcer is someone who has simply slipped through the cracks of society. No one is searching for him anymore, no one is bothering to look for the man who disappeared from the system, and Ginoza thinks there is no reason to begin hunting again. He already does enough hunting as of late.

Besides, he realizes with faint amusement, it’s not like he has to worry about how his Crime Coefficient will be affected anymore.

So he only stands and gives his old friend one last look. “Take care,” he says.

Kougami nods. “You too.”

Ginoza leaves him in the shadow of the tomb, walks back outside into the late autumn morning and pushes a strand of hair from his eyes, feeling the cold air against his face. Inspector Tsunemori waits for him by the car outside, and she smiles when she sees him.

"Thank you," he says, and her smile widens.

"It’s no problem."

The car drives away, picking up speed as it merges into the highway, and somewhere behind them, Ginoza knows, Kougami Shinya is still watching.


End file.
